


Four Years

by shaymin



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Post Trespasser (No Spoilers)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 14:47:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4923709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaymin/pseuds/shaymin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In all his life, King Alistair Theirin didn't think four years could feel like four thousand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Years

**Author's Note:**

> After playing Trespasser, I always wondered where the _hell_ the Warden was and what they had gotten up to. And 'cause Bioware hates us, they never gave us closure. So here's closure for at least one of my Wardens, Elsie. I might do more, I dunno.

"And another thing-!" the Orlesian noble began to list off a number of perceived wrong doings that had occured near the border, and it took every fibre of his being for Alistair to not roll his eyes and sink further into his chair.

Elsie had been good at this - good at dealing with nobles and their petty complaints, even when it came to the Orlesians and their ability to skirt around what they actually wanted to say, insisting on bringing their Game to his palace.

As he found his hands wandering to his desk, pushing letters and official documents around until he found one bearing the official Grey Warden seal. It had arrived months ago and he had read it time and time again, fingers trailing over the words that had been written by his wife. 

Four years ago, she had departed in the night. They had talked about it - searching for a cure to the Blight - but nothing had ever happened. Elsie hadn't even said goodbye. Alistair supposed it was better, that way - he had never been good with farewells, and his puppy dog eyes would make it all the harder for her. She had taken the initiative, as she always had - leading him and their companions against the Blight, bringing the dwarves, elves, humans and mages together to strike the Fifth Blight down before it began. She had been the one to deal the final blow against the Archdemon, and since then, had rebuilt the Ferelden Grey Wardens, and had been the driving force behind King Alistair.

She had been raised to lead - the spare to the Cousland lands and titles, raised to be a proper young lady, but a fighter and a leader, too. In case her elder brother had died, or chosen to abdicate, it would have been up to Teryna Elizabeth Cousland to guide Highever into the future - but her brother, Fergus, had been found after the Blight, and Elsie had other matters to attend to.

"-and finally, the fact that you attempted to have the Inquisition removed greatly angered Emperor-" and Alistair zoned out again the moment he had started paying attention. His scribe was furiously scribbling beside him, and he didn't know how on earth the girl managed to keep up with half of these nobles.

"Lord Frances, your Majesty," a young guard entered the room, bowing her head. "I apologise for the interruption, but there is a matter that requires your attention, sire." she said. Alistair sighed. What in the name of Andraste's sanctified ass could be the matter now? Surely no more nobles had arrived at his door, demanding more and more from him. He wished Elsie was here to deal with them.

Alistair rose from his seat, rubbing at his forehead. He could still remember the song, what turned out to be a fake Calling, in his mind in moments like this - where he wished he was just a Warden again, with less responsibilities placed on his shoulders. He wondered how different his and Elsie's lives may have been had things gone differently.

The Orlesian lord and his scribe followed, footsteps ringing in his ears as solid shoes fell against stone. The whisper of flaming torches grew louder, as did the voices. Many he recognised - the servants and guards, the kitchen staff, even some of his ambassadors. There was an excitement among them, whispers loud enough that he could hear them through the large door to the main hall.

The guard paused, turning to look at her king and grinning before she pushed the doors open. The whispers grew silent as Alitair stepped into the room, hands tucked neatly behind him. Think like a king, he told himself. Chest out, head up, he strolled forward, the eyes of all in the hall on him.

The crowds parted like the sky had done the day the Breach had opened, nobles and commoners alike making room for their king. Alistair walked forward, curiousity building at the base of his spine. Or that might have been anxiety. Why would so many people be so eager to step out of his way - particularly when he wasn't known as a wrathful king in the slightest.

A figure had their back turned to him, lavishing attention on a strong Mabari (who was slobbering on their hands), a warm cape of bear fur on their back. Alistair hesitated for a moment - could it be her? He knew he shouldn't get his hopes up - he couldn't count how many times he had woken up from a dream that Elsie had come back, only to grasp at the empty bed next to him. So many disappointments that he was skeptical at best.

Until the bear fur clad person turned. She had te same smile, the same bright and wise green eyes, except she looked a little older, a little more world-weary. There was a scar - one he didn't recognise - across her face, skirting terrifyingly close to her left eye. Her hair wasn't the long curls it had been when she had left him - she had cut it short, and although Alistair already missed her soft locks, she suited it.

The way her smile reached from ear to ear when she saw him made his heart leap. She looked exhausted - armour covered in blood and bile, burn marks and tears - but she was alive, standing barely twenty feet from him.

Her Mabari was the first to move - the great oaf she'd named Bear - ran towards Alistair, tongue lolling and tiny stump tail wagging at a thousand beats per minute. The giant beast collided with Alistair enormous paws first, pushing the king to the floor and slobbering all over his royal mug.

"Bear! Down, you great lump!" his master chuckled, and Alistair's heart fluttered at hearing her voice - despite the fact he was near drowning in Bear's slobber. The over-excited Mabari bounced off of Alistair, running mad circles around him and bumped into several nobles. Alistair pulled a hankerchief from his pocket and wiped his face before sitting up. In front of him, Elsie was kneeling, grin still as wide as it had been when she first spotted him.

"Hey, you." Alistair said, grinning sheepishly. 

"Hey, you." Elsie replied, her grin mirroring his.

They stayed motionless for a moment before Alistair's warm hands grabbed at Elsie's cape, pulling her into his lap. Elsie practically threw herself against him, the breastplate of her Warden armour smacking directly into his chest. Alistair buried his face into her hair, holding her tightly against him. In that moment, nothing else mattered - not their duties, not the nobles, not Bear's nose snuffling in Alistair's ear. All that mattered was Elsie - his fire of his heart, the love of his life, and his _wife_.

"Um, your Majesty?" one of his aides, voice quiet, was addressing him. Alistair barely lifted his face from Elsie's hair, eyebrows knitted tight in disapproval. "You are, um... aware you are on the floor, in full view of everyone?"

Alistair glanced around, face flushing as he realised that, yes, the nobles and the servants and the guards and everyone else. They had quite the crowd now, the people looking at their monarchs quietly. Reluctantly, Alistair pulled away from Elsie, gloved fingers trailing down her cheeks.

"Well," he said quietly, smiling ruefully at her. "I suppose... we should probably get off the floor."

"That... would be a good idea." Elsie replied, backing off of Alistair and pushing herself to her feet. She held out both hands and Alistair took them, joining her amongst the standing crowd. Alistair dusted himself off, smoothing down his wrinkled leathers before turning to the crowd. It felt like a thousand pair of expectant eyes were upon him. He cleared his throat.

"Consdering that I haven't seen my wife in... four years, Im going to be taking the rest of the day off. I shall resume my kingly duties tomorrow." he could hear quiet snickering in the back of the crowd, but he felt that if he didn't get fie minutes alone with the love of his life, he'd go mad. He wanted to forget everything for a day, and to be with her, and her alone.

Whilst Bear was led to the royal kennels by a guard, Elsie took Alistair by the arm and they strolled through the palace to their room - the room that they hadn't shared in far too long. In all honesty, getting Elsie _out_ of her armour was the last thing on Alistair's mind - the fact that she was back meant only one thing: that she had found the cure.

Elsie closed the door behind the two of them after they stepped in, resting on it for a moment. "You wouldn't believe how exhausted I am," she said, turning to grin at Alistair. "I must hae walked all of Thedas, _twice_."

"I don't doubt that, love," Alistair said, chuckling softly. "I want to hear everything."

"Everything?" Elsie raised a brow as Alistair sat down on the bed, grinning like the cat who got the canary. "You do know I was away for _four years_ , yes?"

"Yep!" Alistair beamed, patting the bed beside him. Elsie shook her head and rolled her eyes, sitting down beside him. "Start from the beginning. I want to hear _all_ of it. Every last, juicy detail."

"Well," Elsie said quietly, her smile soft. "First thing's first, I have it."

"What?" 

"I have the cure."


End file.
